Dylan's Eyes 1
by kdoc27
Summary: Marco talks about the changing colors of his husband's eyes to his diary.
1. Chapter 1

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Dylan's Eyes I

In passion...

His eyes are the color of the evening sky in late fall, or early winter.

I love to look at him then...

He wonders why I like to take walks when it's so cold outside...

Maybe someday I'll tell him...

I wish I could paint... I mean like portraits...

I would paint him at that time of year...

Standing on a bridge with that sky all around him... mirrored by some wide river bellow...

Like ...being surrounded by him...

I love to tease him, and make him chase me...

Those few seconds when I'm on the ground and he's kneeling above me...

That darkening blue...

Like the warmth in his eyes is opening out... Like wings..

Wrapping both of us in …..

His arms pillow my head, keeping it off the cold ground.

I could lay there kissing him forever...

Such sweet kisses...warming both of us...

coming back to this, that just sounds so... off. It doesn't really capture the feel I wanted.

I write for a living now. You'd think I'd have an easier time saying what I mean...

I decided to write because I can do that anywhere and we found out the first time he had to go away for three months that neither of us is willing to deal with that kind of separation.

He likes my writhing.

He's not a very patient person except when it comes to me.

Even if he really likes one of my stories or books, he never tries to get me to tell what's going on till I'm ready to share it.

I go to most of his games, even though I don't really like Hockey all THAT much.

I LOVE watching HIM!

It's a standing joke with his teammates that the reason it took me so long to learn some of their names was because I just didn't 'see' them, that I only really see Dylan !

No. I'll never admit how close to the truth that is!

I've learned to never argue with him before a game

I don't even remember why I was so angry...

I told him he could forget about me coming to the game and stormed out while he was getting ready.

When I'd walked around for a while, I felt bad about it. He was probably right (he usually is) about whatever it was anyway.

Did I tell you I sometimes (as he's been trying to tell me since the first time he asked me out) get bent out of shape over things that aren't that important in the long run?

I did go to his game.

Getting there late, I stood at the rail.

I'd intended to just find him and try to stay unnoticed till the game was over... But I got caught-up watching him handle the puck in that seemingly effortless way he has.

It's like watching a magic trick almost; the puck moving like it's magnetized to the stick, or riding it or something ..

In those moments, he is so focused...so locked in … so perfectly in-tune...

It's like watching a dance, every move sure, powerful, necessary, not a step wasted..beautiful...

His teammates help clear the way, but even when someone gets through to him they rarely seem to be noticed as he goes by them... Even when he knocks one of them out of his way...

Those beautiful, now ice-blue eyes only flick between puck and goal.

Of course he scored!

When he turned to the raise his arms at the cheering fans he saw me there...

Taking off his helmet he smiled and waved it, at Me!

Neither of us saw the last player he'd knocked down till it was too late...

He hit him soo hard. Hit him with his bare fist.

We didn't find out about the roll of coins until a while later.


	2. Chapter 2

Dylan's Eyes I (part two)

Dylan's head snapped back, and he dropped like so fast it didn't even seem real.

By the time his teammates got to him he was bleeding from where his head had connected with the ice, but he still hadn't moved.

I don't remember how I got to him, only holding his head in my lap, crying, begging him to wake up, say something.

He was limp, like a rag doll.

His eyes open...just a crack... Nothing showed through this tiny crack but white...

All I remember of the ambulance ride is that his eyes stayed closed the whole time.

When they took him away from me in the emergency room, I was too shocked to cry.

I stood there for a moment, then dropped to floor and started to pray... Right there in the middle of the floor, so they tell me...

The next thing I remember is standing with his teammates and his coach.

I couldn't /wouldn't sit down till they let me see him.

The doctor said things about x-rays, and MRI's, but all I really heard was he'll be fine...

Thank you god... for making him soo tough!

The doctor said he'd have a stiff really sore neck, and need pain pills and massages for a little while.

And stitches...

They'd had to shave round the cut to put in the stitches, with the bandage over them, you couldn't tell how much. His teammates showed their relief by teasing him about how much hair was really missing under the bandage !

I held his hand pressed to my lips, not saying much, mostly just staring at his eyes...

The open, beautiful 'alive' eyes of my only love...

The doctor told the guy's they'd have to leave, Dylan needed rest, and a little more quiet, for now.

The doctor said he was amazed there was no fracturing. He said with the seriousness of that cut after a blow like that Dylan had been very lucky.

While he was talking to us, a nurse came in and gave him a shot for the pain and the doctor got ready to leave, saying that I probably shouldn't stay long, because he'd be asleep soon.

He didn't have a clue...

"Hey doc, drop the rail!" Dylan said. He couldn't turn his head because of the neck brace, but when he'd tried to pull me closer he'd noticed the rail.

"No, Dyl.." I tried, half-heartedly. I wasn't about to go anywhere, and I didn't care if he'd be asleep soon or not...I wanted him in my arms ... I just ...needed to touch his face...and... To be able to believe ...

But of course Dylan knew...

He understands me like no one else...and loves me anyway!

"Mr. Michalchuk,", the doctor began firmly, but reasonably.

I kinda blame the rest of it on the painkiller...?

"If I climb over and fall, my mom will want to discuss it with you." Dylan said in a sing-song, slightly drunken sounding way.

"Mr.-" The doctor tried again, but got no further as Dylan cut him off.

"She's a lawyer!"

Yep, I knew that giggle, definitely the pain killer... And, well...maybe... Maybe just MY Dylan...

"And she's pretty good!" By now he was trying to pull himself up, like he really would try to get out of the bed...

The doctor gave up, and( muttering something about young daredevils) did as he asked; before leaving the room, shaking his head.

Dylan tugged on my hand.

"Don't cry babe..I'll be fine... Doc said!" He was smiling at me...

"Dylan, I'm so sorr-" I choked out, but he wouldn't let me finish.

"Sshhh...I'm cold babe... Kiss me warm..." he whispered. That twinkling-eyed smile; the one that always made me cave to whatever he wanted. How he could smile that way now...

I bent over as carefully as I could, that brace; making tentative movements seem like the safest thing.

He got hold of my shirt, and pulled, not even wincing, when I landed on top of him!

So strong...

Even now.

I pushed up on my arms, smiling at this, even as I blinked tears away.

"You're crazy, you know that right?" I asked staring into his twinkling eyes; my lips brushing lightly back and forth over his...

"MMmm..." he moaned against my lips, fingers finding my hair, "About you...!" He whispered this as his as his other hand came up to hold my lips more firmly to his.

I don't argue with him before games...


End file.
